Virtually Real
by katbybee
Summary: Did you ever wonder exactly WHY Carter...who was actually a pretty accomplished demolitions expert blew himself up no less than FIVE times in "German Bridge is Falling Down"? So, I got to thinking...Written for the 2018 Speedwriting Challenge UUD R/R


**~2018~**

 **Los Angeles, CA**

I don't care what anybody says…technology is cool. I started writing practically before I could walk…and watching television not long after that. And I remember thinking way back then how cool it would be to be able to be with my favorite characters on television. I mean, who doesn't remember watching a show, then fighting with your friends to see who got to be the hero, and who had to be the bad guy, right? And even as I got older, grew up and became a scriptwriter, I still enjoyed imagining what it would be like sometimes actually living in their worlds. _How awesome would that be, right?_

When I was about ten I had one particular favorite. I can't remember how many times I got grounded for sticking my little brother in the cooler (the hall closet), and then forgetting to let him out again. He used to hide when he heard THAT theme start playing on TV, because he always dreaded the commercial breaks. Especially if the previous scene had somebody getting dragged to the cooler, or getting taken prisoner, or blown up-because he knew he was in for it. I really was kind of rotten as a kid…

 **~1968~**

 **Cincinnati, OH**

"Hey, Petey, come on out, I won't hurt you! It's only a game!"

And he would give himself away every time, because he could never resist answering me back. "No it isn't! It's not a game, Virgil! It's a stupid television show! An' I hate it! I don't wanna play your stupid game."

I laid down on my stomach and looked at him under his bed. "Hiya Pete. Love the dust bunnies."

He frowned at me. "Shut up. Leave me alone or I'm tellin' Mom."

"Awww, Pete, come on, I didn't mean it."

And then Dad hollered "Virg, you're gonna miss it!"

I shook my head and pulled myself up and headed back to the living room. _My brother the spoilsport._

I grabbed a sofa pillow and flopped onto the floor just as Hogan and the gang started planning the evening's mission. I promptly tuned out everything around me.

 **~2018~**

 **Los Angeles, CA**

I am happy to say that I grew up to be a decent guy, and Pete and I get along great. Funny thing is, I wound up in Hollywood as a scriptwriter, and my little brother, the one who hated anything to do with the military or cops as a kid wound up putting in thirty years as an Army MP and retired at the rank of Major two years ago. He and his wife live in Ft. Lauderdale. I never got married, though I have come perilously close a couple of times. My standard reply when a woman wants to get serious is, "Just wait till you get to know me better…you'll change your mind." _I haven't been wrong yet._

Besides being a writer, I am also something of a tech geek. My house is pretty well crammed with gadgets and computers, which probably explains why women find me-eccentric. It may also have something to do with my other hobbies, which include amateur stock car racing and a part-time gig as a stunt pilot. _Okay, I'm an adrenaline junkie_ …so sue me. I've made a lot of good friends that way, and even wound up with a couple small TV and movie roles, though if you blinked you probably missed me. What surprised me was finding out how many actors there are out there who actually like doing their own stunts…even when they really shouldn't. It's made for some on-set amusement, believe me…well…for the stuntmen, anyway.

So, back to my original point. (I _do_ have one.) See, I was hanging out with a buddy of mine over at his shop in Westwood and he showed me some new VR gear he had just gotten in… (Virtual Reality for you laymen.) Now, I don't know if you've ever messed with a set of VR goggles, but they are fantastic! You interface them with a program on your device of choice and you can be anywhere…from the Great Wall of China to the surface of Mars! _How cool is that?_ Of course, I bought a set right then. My buddy showed me how to set them up and where to find websites to use them. Naturally, Brian told me to use extreme caution when cruising these particular types of websites. Naturally, I ignored his warnings.

I got home, flipped on the television and popped in Disc One of my Hogan's Heroes DVD set. It was sort of part of my routine in the evening. I've worn out one set already. I set the equipment up right away, barely taking the time to throw a couple of chicken burritos into the microwave. I wolfed them, washing them down with a Bud Light as I began cruising the 'net. The Bud Light was in deference to my last check-up. Doc said I should start taking better care of myself, so I figured switching to light beer once in a while was a start. I grinned as I crushed the butt of my cigarette. Smoking was just gonna have to wait. _Sorry, Doc!_

There were several sites that looked interesting, and I made mental notes to check them out later. Nothing really caught my attention until I ran across this one: "Do not access. Unable to Delete. Do NOT access." _Are you kidding me?_ I adjusted the goggles, took a sip of my beer, and clicked on the link. In the next instant, I felt as if someone had pulled my chair out from under me and I dropped into absolute nothingness. The thought that flashed through my brain was "I sure hope **_I am not dead!"_**

 **~Sometime in 1942 (?)~**

 **Hammelburg, Germany (?)**

 _Cold. It was cold, and the floor was hard._ I shook my head and turned over painfully. It was dark. I must have passed out...but from only one beer? That didn't seem right. I nearly jumped out of my skin when a vaguely familiar voice above me whispered drily, "Well, mate, ya gonna lay there all night or ya gonna get back in yer bunk?"

A sleepy and only slight sympathetic French accent whispered, " _Andre'_ you had another nightmare. Go back to sleep!"

Before I could say anything, another voice growled from across the room, "Knock it off you guys. Carter, get back in bed. Go to sleep!"

By this time my eyes had adjusted to the very faint light coming in around the cracks in the covered windows and in the walls. And I recognized the room. And those voices. And I knew _exactly_ where I was. I slowly sat up...and heard rustling from the bunk above me. I looked up into the concerned green eyes of Corporal Peter Newkirk.

"You okay, Carter?"

I shook my head and whispered in a voice that was definitely not my own, "I really don't think so…"

I climbed into the narrow, uncomfortable bunk and stared into space. Just how the hell had this happened? The last thing I remembered was-the VR goggles! I clicked onto that stupid link. And somehow, it had transported me here...to a time and a place that could not possibly be real. Into a person who was not real. And yet, I looked down at my-his?- _my_ hands. I was not surprised at the gloves. I pulled off the left one and stared at the ring on my left hand. _Oh, this could get really ugly…_ I pulled my bomber jacket tighter around myself and sighed. It was then that it hit me. _This was not a set._ It really was night time. And these guys were all here. Sleeping. And the lights that filtered through the cracks were real searchlights... _oooh boy!_

I must have drifted off, because the next thing I knew, Schultz was banging on the post of our bunk and yelling for us to _"Raus, raus, raus!"_

I stumbled out of bed and dressed, staying quiet, just sort of taking it all in at first. Unfortunately, without my morning coffee, I am a complete bear, so my resolve to keep quiet and just fly under the radar didn't last long. I got pretty mouthy during roll call, but I doubted anyone would really think that was too unusual, because I had noticed in the show that Carter tended to pop off quite a bit around the Germans whenever he thought he could get away with it.

I had given up trying to figure out the situation...I was in Stalag 13...for better or worse. And after roll call, Colonel Hogan called us into his office for a briefing. That's when it became all too clear that things were about to get _way_ worse.

As we had gathered around his table, talking about ways to blow up the Adolf Hitler Bridge, I found I had to rely on my basic high school chemistry to answer the colonel's questions about the easiest way to build a bomb. Then suddenly he assigned Newkirk to gather supplies and me and Kinch to set up "my" bomb factory.

On my way down into the tunnels, I realized that although I knew for sure that I had somehow become a fictional character in a fictional world, I didn't _feel_ fictional. And my memories of who I really was-of being Virgil Simmons-were completely intact. I had none of "Carter's" memories. Because he was not real. None of these people were real. In the next instant, my theory was sorely tested when Kinch stumbled in front of me and hit one of the support beams near his radio desk.

"Damn!" He turned to me, holding up his hand. "Got another splinter."

He moved over to the desk, picked up and turned on his flashlight. He pulled out his knife and extracted a large sliver from the side of his thumb. He examined the small bloody spot, looked at me and rolled his eyes. "Good thing LeBeau isn't here."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I really didn't think I could. _Because that blood sure looked like reality to me._ Suffice it to say that thus began the craziest 24 hours of my life. Because, had Carter actually been there, I _know_ he would have figured out how to build that bomb with no problem. He would not have damnear blown up the camp (and himself) FIVE times. But Virgil Simmons is no explosives expert. Virgil Simmons is a scriptwriter and stuntman. And a tech-geek...with no access to tech. And I can only figure that I didn't die in any of those five explosions because Carter was not supposed to die. _Thank God._

I can only figure the last explosion must have been what did it. Rang my bells really good, because I really don't remember a whole lot about the rest of the day. I remember LeBeau hitting me with the water, and Fitz* and LeBeau putting me in a bunk when Schultz came in. I told them about the tunnel cave-in and then crawled into my bunk. I was wiped out and had a killer headache. I don't even remember going to evening roll call.

 **~2018~**

 **Los Angeles**

 _Dark. Cool, but not cold._ The drone of voices and then a brief pause. And then...THAT theme music. It took me a minute to orient myself. I opened my eyes just as the theme music ended...and I looked around. My desk chair was tipped over, and the beer I had been sipping was spilled all over the carpet. I sat up and glanced over at the television. The ending credits had played, and the title menu was now frozen silently on the screen, the face of Colonel Hogan, _a man I had just spent 24 hours with_ , grinning cockily back at me.

I stood up and set my chair upright, trying to make sense of it all. I turned on the lights and went into the kitchen and got a damp sponge and some rug cleaner. As I cleaned up the beer, it occurred to me that maybe I should quit drinking. I dropped the sponge in the sink and the bottle in the recycling bin. I walked back to my desk, sat down and gazed at the VR goggles. I looked at the script I had been working on just before all this happened. I had been contacted by a close friend of mine who wanted to bring an old series of his out of retirement and do a reboot. But it had been tried as a movie with only limited success. We had talked about doing Hogan's Heroes, but decided it wouldn't work, so we scrapped that idea.

I looked back at the reboot script. And I made my decision. I had gotten stuck trying to get into the head of my favorite character. Actually, he was sort of a guy after my own heart...though not as rough around the edges...and I had always wanted to get to know him. I had no clue if this would work or not...but what's life without a risk or two, right? I took a deep breath, slipped on the VR goggles, and concentrated. I hit the link.

Once again, the chair fell away….and as I felt my hands around the cyclic of a helicopter, and gazed out at a flipped horizon, a very familiar voice bellowed in my ear "Murdock, you crazy fool! What you think you doin?"**

 **~The End~**

A/N: *Fitz is a sort of canon-o/c character… this is the only time you basically ever see him in the series, and he was never given a name, but I gave him a life of his own in my stories...he is my backup demolitions man. ** Murdock just decided to drop in from another fandom, the A-Team… I told my writing partner, xavionite I'd figure a way to get him in there! (Thanks to xavionite and to my writing group for all your encouragement… you guys rock!)


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